


Storm

by s1ncer1ty



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s1ncer1ty/pseuds/s1ncer1ty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Up until the great quest, Kili has lived a charmed life. After the company's encounter in Goblintown and the near-death of their king, Kili now must face a new reality -- one where his hands are eternally stained with blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Ambiguously slashy -- feel free to read into it if you desire. If not, that's just peachy too!

Kili's hands were shaking.

 

The company was exhausted, having faced first a thrumming hive of goblins, followed immediately by a vicious orc attack. As they made camp, many within the party dropping instantly like stones without even a bite of supper, it was starting to sink in -- the near-death of their leader at the hands of a foe thought long-dead; the dizzying, spiraling flight upon wings of eagles; the Lonely Mountain, hazy through the mists, nearly within their grasp.

 

And now, Kili could barely eat for the shaking of his hands. As he stared over the top of his bowl of stew, he could feel the world starting to spin, and suddenly even the few small bites he'd taken turned to lead in his gut. With a start, he looked around for the reassuring gaze of his brother, only to find Fili collapsed in a heap upon the ground at their uncle's side; Thorin, too, slumbered sitting up, as if sleep had overcome him upon watch.

 

_Eyes were upon him, moans in the dark, and it turned his stomach sour just to think about it._

 

"What's the matter, lad?" said Bofur, one of the few among the company still awake, from the other side of the fire. "You look as if someone's pissed in your supper."

 

Kili visibly shuddered, and the bowl held in his trembling hands clattered to the ground. He shoved himself to his feet and all but ran from camp into the trees, where he was suddenly and violently sick in the underbrush.

 

Wiping his mouth off on his sleeve, he struggled to even out his breathing, to calm his churning stomach, when that same voice seemed to sneak up behind him.

 

"If I'd known it was that bad, I'd have added more sage," said Bofur with a slightly self-conscious laugh.

 

Kili held his stomach. "Don't..." he groaned.

 

The grin faded, only to be replaced with a concerned tilt of the head. "Are you truly all right?"

 

"What does it look like?" Kili snapped.

 

"It looks like you just fed a perfectly good supper to the trees, who I'm sure wouldn't appreciate it as much as another in the company," said Bofur.

 

"I assure you, it won't happen again," muttered Kili, ducking his head to avoid eye contact as he moved to head back to camp.

 

Bofur, with a hand on his shoulder, stayed his step. "You'll either tell me what ails you, or I'll be waking Thorin so he can find out. And trust me, he's had enough for one day to be fretting about."

 

Kili paused, throwing a pained look toward the other dwarf. "You wouldn't," he said. "Please."

 

Bofur shrugged. "I'd have no other choice."

 

"I don't want to talk about it. With _anyone_."

 

"I highly recommend you tell your old friend Bofur, who will, to the best of his capabilities, keep matters as confidential as he's able."

 

Kili grumbled impatiently, his brows drawing down into a dark frown. He was silent a long while, before he finally spat out reluctantly, "How do you all do it?"

 

"Do what?"

 

Kili lifted his hands to the sides as he struggled to find the right words. "How do you not still see their eyes?"

 

"I'm not sure I follow you..."

 

"It's ... one thing, to kill a creature with an arrow. You're a ways away. But with a sword..." He paused, still unsure whether or not what he was telling Bofur even made sense. "You're right there. You see the light leave their eyes. You _feel_ yourself slicing the life out of them."

 

"And here I was hoping you'd tell me you'd dipped too much into Gandalf's stash of tobacco leaf," said Bofur with a sigh. "So now you're wondering when it gets easier?"

 

"You've ... killed plenty in your time, right?"

 

"Aye," said Bofur. "More than I'd like to admit."

 

"When _does_ it get easier?"

 

Bofur shook his head. "It doesn't. It's not supposed to."

 

"Then how do you cope?"

 

"When it's a matter of life or death, you do what you have to do." Bofur rested a hand on Kili's shoulder. "It's never easy, but it's necessary. The moment it becomes easy, then you know something important's died inside you."

 

Kili nodded slowly. "What do you see, when you try to sleep at night?" he asked in a quiet tone. "Because I just keep seeing their eyes."

 

Bofur smiled sadly. "It isn't what I see. It's what I hear. Screams that try to drown out all that is bright and good in the world. But you know what I also hear, louder than all that? I hear the laughter of my kin -- my _lads_ \-- alive to see another day. I hear my brother's stomach rumbling, and my cousin's whittling. I hear a certain burglar, trying to worm his way to a warmer spot by the fire or begging for a proper handkerchief. I can even hear the needs of a certain young wretch, who's possibly in need of a shoulder."

 

"I'm not weak," said Kili, turning away from the other dwarf.

 

"No one said you are. You're just ... changed."

 

"I don't know how many I killed. Is that bad? That I have no recollection?" Kili's voice was beginning to grow shaky. "It ... wasn't as Dwalin had said, while he was training me. He'd told me anyone attempting to harm me or my kin was just meat. But those goblins ... some of them actually looked scared."

 

"They were _goblins_. You kill one and a dozen more will sprout up in its place. What would they have done to you, if you hadn't fought back?"

 

"And goblins don't have feelings," said Kili, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "They still screamed as they died."

 

Bofur inclined his head, looking Kili over thoughtfully. "You've never killed anyone prior to the quest, have you?"

 

"So?" Kili's shoulders stiffened beneath Bofur's hand, and his brows drew down low.

 

"The first kills are always the hardest. But know this: each one was necessary. What would you have done to the Defiler, had you been able to properly assist Thorin?"

 

"I'd have run him clean through."

 

"Without a thought?"

 

"Without a thought," Kili affirmed. "I mean -- he almost _killed_ \--" The younger dwarf broke off with a start and shoved his fingers into his hair. "-- my uncle," he finished in a whisper.

 

Bofur drew closer, giving Kili's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You're holding onto something poisonous, lad. Get it out of your system, would you?"

 

At that, Kili shoved the warm hand aside and turned completely away, his own knuckles drawing white as he clenched a fist in his hair. To his surprise, Bofur could hear a soft sniffling coming from the other dwarf.

 

"Oh, laddie... That's it -- out with it."

 

"It's not ... over _goblins_ ," Kili said in a quavering voice. "It's just ... too much."

 

"It's too much, all at once," Bofur agreed, and again moved to place a hand on Kili's shoulder. This time, he did not pull away, and, in fact, turned around to face him, his cheeks tracked with tears. "But you're strong, and the storm will pass."

 

"How do you do it?" Kili asked again, scrubbing away the tears with an impatient fist.

 

"One day at a time, lad," said Bofur, and pulled the other dwarf into a rough hug. "'Tis all anyone can do."

 

Kili nodded, and allowed the toymaker to hold him, until the tide of emotions eventually receded.


End file.
